


After the Fall

by benicetonice



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Not A Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-12 23:09:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11172033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benicetonice/pseuds/benicetonice
Summary: Not a fix-it.





	After the Fall

**Author's Note:**

> All mistakes are mine and I suck at summaries so that's why there isn't one. Let me know if it's any good. Or if you want me to add to it. All opinions appreciated. Much love.

No.

This isn't how it is supposed to happen.

The uniform is thick, but his face is exposed and Bucky can feel the wind whip and nip at every exposed piece of flesh. He’s looking down and all he sees is white with brown spots here and there. They’re rushing by, dizzyingly fast. He doesn’t even know how he grabbed a hold of the bar after the blast, especially with the speed the train rides at. He doesn’t even know how he managed to lift the damn shield, his muscles aren’t quite up to par with the strength needed for the vibranium. What is he even thinking. Steve is there in front of him, looking at him in wild panic and Bucky begins to move toward him.

He begins to register the deep rooted feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach when the bar begins to bend. This is not how it is supposed to happen. He can’t go before his Ma. He can’t go before telling Steve - “Bucky grab my hand!” The thick, black, leather glove is right in front of him. He looks farther up and sees bright blue, reflected from the Captain America uniform. The fear in the blue strangles Bucky; not the best thing when dangling from a train at top speed. _Focus_. The glove. He swears he sees each individual groove and crease in the glove. But it’s not close enough, the train speeds up - not at top speed after all - Bucky can feel the slight acceleration, he can feel it jolt him when he swings his right hand away from the bar to grab onto the glove.

The bar breaks.

His throat feels raw, dry with cold. When did he open his mouth? His hand is reaching toward the sky - he thinks - but he’s not quite sure what he was reaching for. Steve. There isn’t enough air. Oh. He can’t stop screaming, forcing air out, not in. What did he need to tell Steve? He really wishes Steve hadn’t been there to see him fall. At least he won’t be there to

Brooklyn is cold, but this? This is a different cold. This is icy fire, licking up his limbs and leaving a stinging numbness behind. It’s all he can feel. All he is. Does he have a body? _That’s stupid ‘course you’ve gotta body,_ the part of his brain not addled in cold and what must be pain retorts. Right, so he has a body, but he won’t soon if he doesn’t find warmth. In order to find warmth, he needs to find feeling in his body. A blanket of snow covers him and he cannot guess the length of time it’s been there. That scares him. _Okay. Move._ The snow covered body doesn’t listen. _Okay, elevate heart._ He manages one elbow underneath him, then he blacks out.

 

Footsteps. Movement. The snow blanket, it’s leaving him.

_Wha-?_

He blinks. Dry throat, throbbing head, too much cold, too much light. But then the light shifts and wait, that’s a _jacket_ ! Relief manages to flood through Bucky, the 107th found him, _those idiots, it’s death cold and who were they to know if I survived that kinda fall?_ ‘ _m gonna die upon reaching base anyway,_ that thought doesn’t scare him.

“Потеря крови критическая.” What the hell is that?

“Если принесли раскладушку.” Is that...Russian?

“Кто заботится о проклятой кровати. Мы нашли его гребаный. Как раз вовремя, тоже, Золя был бы опустошен, если бы мы не сделали.” Zola. A bump. No. A scream. _Sergeant...32557…_

Pinpricks make their way up his body. _Sergeant...32557…_

He tries to shake his head, but there’s a bump or something and it _hurts_.

“Он просыпается.”

“Let him,” so these pricks do know English, “he needs to discover pain and live with it. Grow in strength from it.”

There’s a muffled buzzing from his left. He opens his eyes in curiosity. When did he close them? The curiosity turns to horror. _My left arm…_ , the doctor - scientist? - brings the rusted saw closer to his arm, or to where it ends, right where the elbow would be. _Would be._ Oh God, he doesn’t have an elbow, he doesn’t have a forearm. _Fuck_.

The edge of the rounded saw comes closer. It’s so small. _It’ll take forever_ . Blood drips to the floor from the opening of the wound. How is he still _awake_. He can’t look away. He wants to look away. God, he wants to look away.

The edge slices into his skin an inch above the cut off. He can’t feel it. Why can’t he _feel it?_ The saw meets muscle, then bone. His back arches and he screams. It’s one of those desperate, raw screams that wasn’t meant to escape but did out of desperation, in hopes that the listener will hear and stop their actions.

The listener presses harder to break bone.

He doesn’t black out from pain and can’t look away when more blood falls and all that’s left is a gaping hole.

He finally passes out when they flip him over and hack into his back.

  
  


It’s been years since she’s seen him. Years since she’d seen anyone from the Red Room, but there was no mistaking his face. The Winter Soldier stands in front of Natasha with an enhanced pistol - no doubt stolen by Hydra - and the memories that she desperately tries to evade come rushing back.

_A man lounges on the bed in the designated room. He is approximately 5’11, 175 pounds of muscle with dark hair that is longer than normal for their agencies. There is something off with his left arm. He does not look up from his position, but Natalia can tell that he is studying her just as she is him. Natalia glides forward, adding extra swing to her hips because that is what happens in these rooms and the man may not be watching, but the staff are. The door closes. She does not stop. He does not stop her. This is both their missions._

_-time lapse-_

_The door to the room opens and Natalia glides in, in her soundless way, but her ankle is twisted and her shoulder is bruised. The Winter Soldier takes notice of these things. They have been meeting for a week now and this is the longest Madame B has allowed Natalia to keep one partner. She does not expect it to last much longer and wonders if the Winter Soldier thinks the same. The door closes. The Winter Soldier shoots up, “_ _Что случилось (What happened)?”_

_Natalia waves him off with the wrong arm and grimaces when her shoulder twinges, the only person she’ll show pain to, “Ничего, не беспокойтесь об этом (Nothing, don’t worry about it). Просчет на сложности миссии (Misjudgement on mission difficulty).”_

_“Как ад я не буду беспокоиться о вас (Like hell I won’t worry about you). Ты единственный человек держит меня в здравом уме после того, как (You're the only person keeping me sane after) -” The Winter Soldier never discusses what his handlers do to him, Natalia doesn’t ask. Better that way._

_The door bursts open._

_“Вернись (Get back)! Отдельный (Separate)! Колени, Зимний Солдат (Knees, Winter Soldier)!” Guards rush through. Pushing the assassins away from each other._

_“Наталия (Natalia)!”_

_Natalia’s arms were bound the moment the chaos started, but she struggles anyway._

_-Next day-_

_“Черная Вдова, в то время как некоторые, неожиданные, чувства произошла во время вашей миссии, вам удалось (Black Widow, while some, unexpected, feelings occurred during your mission, you succeeded).”_

Mission? _Natalia stays stoic._

_“Отдел X собрал информацию, необходимую для их предмета (Department X has gathered the information needed for their subject). В то же время, как вы прошли тест для окончания школы (At the same time, you have passed your test for graduation). Одна последняя вещь остается (One last thing remains).”_

_A medical cart pushes through the door._

Natasha stands her ground in front of the soldier’s target, her protection assignment. She can see the sharp blue from yards away and they hold no recognition. _What did they do to you B?_ The gun sounds. Natasha doesn’t fall, not from the wound, not from the dead weight against her calves, but she almost falls from the flicker of pain in the Soldier’s eyes.

“Почему ты не убил женщину (Why didn’t you kill the woman)?”

“Она не была миссия (She was not the mission).” _Smack._ Its face turns from the force of the backhanded slap. It does not react.

“Вы знаете, мы не заботимся о сопутствующий ущерб (You know we do not care about collateral damage). Она опасна (She is dangerous). Вы должны убить ее (You should have killed her).”

“He should have killed her on the last mission he was sent on. But he didn’t.” Master pulls up a chair and straddles it in front of The Asset. The handlers straighten and leave with a wave of Master’s hand. _The power of one little man_ , The Asset passively, dimly, enviously thinks.

“You failed Master. Again.” Master surveys the face of The Asset, looking for something. The Asset keeps its head down submissively, not uttering a word.

A hand snakes it’s way into The Asset’s long hair, yanks harshly. The Asset follows the movement, baring its neck to Master. The Asset spots movement in its peripheral; the handlers are watching. Master’s other hand clamps down on The Asset’s airpipe, “Next time, you will kill her. And you will remember this punishment as encouragement to do so.” The words are whispered filthily into the Asset’s right ear before any air it was getting is cut off by Master’s lips slamming down onto its own. The Asset sits stock still.

“Get up you good for nothing whore,” Master sneers into its mouth.

The Asset complies. Master shoves it onto its knees before The Asset gets up all the way, causing the length of The Asset’s bare back to get scratched by the metal of the recalibration chair. The handlers are still watching, The Asset doesn’t flinch.

“Look at you, down there where you belong. Open your mouth.” Master unbuttons his pants, drags the zipper down, looking The Asset in the eyes the whole time. He always does, unlike the others.

The Asset unlocks its jaw, mouth dropping open wide. Master shoves his limp penis into his mouth. Not bothering to wait until his penis stiffens with arousal, Master grabs his base and the back of The Asset’s head and thrusts all the way in. The Asset gags. The smell is sharp and bitter, the hair The Asset’s nose is being shoved into is blond and coarse. Master does it again and again. Not letting The Asset breathe. The Asset cannot swallow. Saliva pools and drips down its chin. Its hands lay limp by its side. The handlers are still watching.

With each thrust in Master grunts new insults down to The Asset. The Asset doesn’t blink, until finally, Master buries himself in The Asset’s mouth and grinds his hips against its lips. The Asset can feel the tip of the penis rubbing against the back of its throat. It gags again. The vibration against the tip must set the Master off because within seconds semen is shooting down the Asset’s throat. The pressure hurts and The Asset can’t breathe, can’t swallow, can only hope that the momentum from the orgasm will shove everything down its throat.

Master shoves its face away when he’s done. The Asset’s head bangs against the metal chair. The Asset coughs and sputters, dragging in breaths but those hurt so it’s back to coughing. The Asset drags its body up onto the chair and lays its arms on the arms of the chair, waiting for the routine arm inspection and mindwipe. Something deep down is telling it to _fight_ that sitting here pliantly is _wrong_ , but it’s too easy to push whatever that is down even further into the depths of its mind.

Master is rearranging himself, “Oh no, your punishment isn’t done yet. You don’t fail Hydra and get off that easy, especially when _I’m_ the one who stopped them from terminating your ass and you go and disobey me.”

The Asset can only blink dejectedly at Master and that thing is back telling it to _fight_ to _resist_ , but then the handlers are walking in from some silent gesture Master made while The Asset was debating with that thing.

“Have at him boys. Don’t be gentle.”

The Asset has never seen this emotion on the handlers’ faces before. _Eagerness_ . So they’ve waited for this for a while. The first one takes a fighting knife and cuts The Asset’s pants away, cutting skin while doing so. The Asset tenses against the pain. The Asset never tenses against pain, let alone a _knife_ cut. The cut goes from the top of its thigh to the top of its ankle, on both sides. The tip of the blade feels freezing. The second one is taking off his pants. The first one is dragging the now naked asset to the edge of the chair; the first and third one already lost their clothing. They all leave their shirts on. The Asset is tensing and it doesn’t know why. That thing is back, telling him to _struggle goddammit_. The Asset doesn’t know how to struggle.

The Asset objectively thinks it doesn’t like the idea of three penises and only two places for them to go, so it digs up that thing a little more.

Its legs are the first thing to fight, kicking weakly, but they’ve already been spread and all that fighting with them does is spread them even more. “Sir, The Asset is starting to struggle, it’s been out of cryo too long.” A panicked voice rushes up to the bars that Master is leaning against. A doctor. Female. 29. Nonthreat.

_Who cares about fucking people outside of these three goons attacking me_ , that thing shouts inside of the Asset and oh. That’s The Asset’s thoughts.

It’s too late, The Asset cannot breathe again, his sore throat being attacked and his vision is blocked by a tan ass moving closer and away from his face. The second person has a hand on top of the Asset’s head to steady himself. The Asset’s back is arched uncomfortably. The Asset screams against the penis in his mouth when a penis shoves into his anus. The Asset must have used teeth because the handler on top of him punches him in the sternum, not helping his breathing. The Asset tries to pull back when he feels his hole being spread but one of the handlers clamp onto his thighs to prevent him from succeeding. A second penis penetrates him.

_  
All The Asset can do is sob._


End file.
